


All Drawn Out

by callmecirce



Series: Miraculous One-Shots [7]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Life Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce
Summary: What would happen if Nathanaël Kurtzberg and Chloé Bourgeois swapped backstories?Chloé is a shy artist in her last year of University, with an ambitious project.  Unbeknownst to her, the sole scion of the city's mayor has volunteered to help her out.





	All Drawn Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LazyWorkaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyWorkaholic/gifts).



> This was inspired by one of the possible AUs mentioned [in one of my ChloNath Week drabbles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350/chapters/25616997), and written for **LazyWorkaholic** , who requested that I explore this idea further. I'll eventually be writing two more of those AUs, probably in series with this one. I hope you enjoy!

Chloe set her easel directly in front of the large gallery windows, clipped her paper into place, and carefully laid out her supplies: pencils, sharpener, eraser, blending stick.

She was halfway through a series of tasteful, understated nudes, focused on showcasing the grace, power and beauty of the human body in all its forms—not just classic beauty, but those society dubbed ‘not ideal’ as well.  She’d already drawn all of the women for the series.  Mylene had posed for her, surprisingly enough, and she’d been able to capture her shy friend in all of her curvy beauty.  Marinette’s mother, Sabine, had volunteered for the project as well, along with several other women of varying ages and body types. 

Drawing the women had been easy; drawing the men was proving a far greater challenge.  So far, she’d only done two, and both sessions had been awkward in the extreme.  Today, she didn’t even know who she’d be drawing, and she wasn’t sure whether that made things better, or worse.  If she didn’t know them, then she wouldn’t have to face them again later. That was better, right?

Right??

She shifted uneasily, wondering who she’d be working with, and began working on a few quick warm up sketches to distract herself while she waited. 

Ten minutes later, she tilted her head, considering the roughly drawn figures, and sighed.  There was little more she could do without someone to draw.  She’d just begun to dig through her bag for a snack, when the studio door opened and Nathanaël Kurtzberg, of all people, waltzed in.  She gasped, and shrank behind the easel.  Was he in the wrong room?  He had to be in the wrong room, and since he probably hadn’t seen her, she could just stay out of sight and he’d leave—

“I don’t know why you’re hiding back there, Goldie, but if you intend to waste my time then I will just leave.  Mother **did** want me to go schmooze at some City Hall luncheon today.”

She cringed.  He’d definitely seen her, but he still might be in the wrong room.  There was a rustling as he set down his bag and removed his coat, obviously intending to stay a while.  She took a deep breath, smoothed the wrinkles from her yellow blouse, blew the heavy fringe from her eyes, and stepped out from behind the easel.

Only to gasp and dart right back behind it, her face crimson.

“Is there a problem, Goldie?”  She could hear the amusement in his voice, and she just _knew_ that he was laughing at her.

“You’re **naked**!”

He chuckled, and there was more rustling.  “Well, not yet, but I will be soon.  Aren’t you going to be drawing me naked?”

She peeked from behind the easel, careful to keep her eyes glued to his face and resolutely **not** thinking about the subtly sculpted planes of his torso.  “Wait, **you’re** my model for today?”

He smirked, and made a show of rummaging through his messenger bag, and checking a schedule.  “Chloe Bourgeois, right?  Studio 716, 10am,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah.  Yeah, that’s right.”  Oh, it just wasn’t fair.  Nathanaël Kurtzberg was sinfully beautiful, rich as Croesus, arrogant as hell, and completely and utterly comfortable in his own skin.  If only he hadn’t grown out of being the nasty, spoiled brat he’d been in _collége_ ; at least then she could write him off as a jerk and focus on drawing.  But no, he **had** grown out of it, and she’d been nursing a crush since sometime in in _lycée_.

And now she was supposed to draw him. 

Naked.

“You alright there, Goldie?  I’m serious, I do have other things to get to today, so if you’re not going to use me, I’m going to put my clothes back on and leave.”

Chloe shoved down all of the errant thoughts about how she’d **like** to ‘use’ him, and shook herself.  “Er, yeah.  I just, well I wasn’t, uh, I wasn’t expecting…you.”  He arched a brow, and she realized that probably hadn’t come across as complimentary.  “Not—not that there’s anything wrong with you!  I didn’t know who I was expecting.  At all.”

 The smirk intensified, and his unusual green-blue eyes sparked with mischief.  “So, Goldie, how do you want me?”

Her eyes widened, and darted down in spite of her best intentions not to.  At least he’d kept on his underwear, but the fitted boxer briefs did little to hide his body.  Her face flamed, and his smirk turned to a knowing grin.  She squeezed her eyes shut, smoothed down her blouse again, and prayed that her blush hadn’t gotten out of control.  Then she began shuffling through her stack of possible sketches, grateful for the distraction. 

“I uh, have sketches of the poses I’d like to use in the series.”  She pulled two from the stack, and considered them thoughtfully.  “There are two that I’d like you to try.  [The one I like the best](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b7/ec/f0/b7ecf0ebcf4dee16e571f17fb92de006--post-card-male-models.jpg) will be very difficult for you to maintain for any length of time, so if you don’t mind, I will take a photograph for a reference.  Then I can get just a rough outline this morning, and fill in the details later.  If you have time after that, we can try the second pose.”  She passed them both to him, eyeing him shyly. “Is—is that ok?”

He looked at both the sketches, and nodded, his smirk back in place.  “You’re the artist, Chlo.  I’m just here to look pretty.”

“Right.  Ah, ok.”  She moved a sturdy chair into the center of the room, in front of her easel, and angled it to the side.  “I just need you to, um…”  She gestured weakly to his underwear, and he grinned.

“Are you sure your delicate sensibilities can handle it?”

She scowled, and hid her warm face behind her hands.  “Don’t be an ass, Nathanael,” she grumbled, finally losing patience with his teasing.  “This is hard enough for me as it is.  I really don’t appreciate being made fun of.”

He looked contrite, surprisingly enough, and then **he** blushed.  What?

He cleared his throat, and turned his back to slide the boxer briefs from his legs.  “Sorry.  I’ve done this before, but never nude, and never—well, let’s just say I’m not as comfortable as I might appear to be.”

Chloe gaped at him, stunned.  She’d never once heard him apologize voluntarily, and she’d certainly never heard him admit to a weakness before.  Granted, she hadn’t seen him much in the years since _lycée_ , but still!

Her eyes slid down his naked form, appreciating the clean lines of his lithe, compact body, and found her attraction to him growing.  Shit.

He half turned to face her, and suddenly she got a glimpse of something other than his well-defined ass.  She jerked her eyes back to his, and saw that his blush had darkened apace with hers.  “Ah, if you’ll just look at the sketch and get into place, and uh, get yourself situated, I’ll adjust your pose until it looks the way I want it to.”

“Sure,” he said, and she all but ran to hide behind her easel once more.

* * *

 

Merde, _maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all_ , Nathanaël thought, watching her scurry to hide once more.  He’d wanted to spend time with her, to show her that he was not the beast he’d been back in school, but this wasn’t going at all as he’d hoped. 

He stifled a sigh, knowing that there was nothing for it now but to forge ahead, and studied the sketch she’d handed him.  Then he set it aside and stepped onto the chair, facing the back.  With his hands on the top, he positioned his toes in the middle of the seat and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, touching his bent knees to the top of the back rest.  Rather than resting his haunches on his feet, though, he tried to keep his thighs parallel to the seat and the floor.  Chloe was right; this was not a position he could keep up for long.  He let his weight rest on his heels, since there was no point in holding the difficult position until she needed him to.  When he was sure that his goods were ah, ‘situated’, as she put it, he cleared his throat.  “I’m ready.”

He heard her draw a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then she came out of hiding.  He could tell right away that she’d shifted into artist mode, because her eyes had turned critical, and she studied him unabashedly. 

“You’re perfect for [this pose](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b7/ec/f0/b7ecf0ebcf4dee16e571f17fb92de006--post-card-male-models.jpg), I think,” she said absently.  “Turn your shoulders toward the easel, but keep your face oriented in the same direction as your knees.”

As she continued to direct him, he obliged as well as he could.  When it wasn’t quite what she wanted, she used gentle fingers to nudge him until he was positioned just so.  Sometimes, she would step back to look at him from farther away, and then come closer to adjust his position again.  When she was done, his shoulders were twisted at a ninety degree angle from his hips, and she’d placed his right hand in a fist over his heart. His left was raised so that his fist obscured his eyes, but left the rest of his profile exposed.  It was an awkward position, to be sure, even without lifting his weight.

“There,” she said with clear satisfaction coloring her tone.  “Just hold still for just a second…”  She angled her easel so that she could see him, pulled her phone from her bag and then fiddled with it, obviously bringing up her camera app.  “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”  He lifted his weight once more, and fought to keep his body immobile and his face neutral when his thighs immediately began to burn.  “Is this good?”

“Just a little bit lower…Perfect!  Don’t move!” 

He heard her snap several photos, and willed her to finish quickly.  He’d thought he was fit, but this was more challenging than he’d initially realized.

“Ok, I’ve got it.  You can relax now.”

“Fuck, thank you.”  He dropped his arms and his weight with relief.  “I don’t know how much longer I could have held that.”

She giggled.  “I saw you shaking.  I’m not even going to try sketching you like that; I’ll just work from the picture.”

He slumped further and moved from the chair, forgetting for a moment that he was entirely naked.  He looked at her when she squeaked, and froze in mortification when he realized that he’d inadvertently given her an unobstructed view of everything.  Worse, she’d frozen as well, with her eyes riveted on his member—and it was **growing** under her attention.

Fuck.

He forced himself to move, and snatched his shirt from the floor to hold it strategically over his nakedness.  “So, that other pose?”

She shook herself and pulled her eyes away, but they did not meet his.  A fiery blush stained her cheeks.  “Yeah, right.  The pose.  Ah, here.”  She crossed to the corner, and pulled a long wooden staff from a nook between the wall and a large shelving unit.  “Face away from me, and stand with your feet shoulder width apart.  Um, rotate your whole body a little to the left.  I need your thigh to block—uh, yeah.  Like that.  Now take this and rest it across your shoulders, with your wrists draped over either end, and turn your head so that I can see your face in profile.  Perfect!”

He smiled at the excitement in her tone, and watched from the corner of his eye as she lifted her cell phone again. 

“Do you mind if I take pictures of this one, too?  I want to have a reference in case we run out of time.”

“Go right ahead.”

She snapped several more pictures, tossed her phone into her bag, and finally took up her pencils.  They were quiet as she worked, and for some time the only sounds were the hum of a space heater and scratch of her pencil across the paper.

It was boring.

His shoulders ached, and his arms were going to sleep. He tried wiggling his fingers, but it only made them feel tinglier.  Was tinglier even a word?

He sighed.  Nathanaël Kurtzberg was not accustomed to boredom **or** discomfort.  He considered telling her to just use the picture to finish, but then he’d have to leave and he still hadn’t asked her out.  He could always steamroll her into going out with him, in return for his posing today, and a few years ago, he might have done just that.  But he didn’t want her to say yes because she had to.   He wanted her to say yes because she wanted to, and that put a whole new complexion on things. 

Nathanaël Kurtzberg was not accustomed to feeling vulnerable, either. It chafed.  He sighed again.

“Are you ok?” She asked, and he jumped at the unexpected sound of her voice.  “You keep sighing.”

“Yeah, I’m good.  Just a little bored.”

“Oh!  I’m sorry.  That’s my fault.  I usually try to chat with my subjects, to make the time go by, but I guess I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

She lapsed into silence again, and he turned his head a bit more to look at her.  She was blushing again, and was worrying her lower lip between her teeth.  Maybe she didn’t know what to talk about?

Well, that made two of them.

He cast about for something to say.  “So, um…will both of these drawings go into the series?”

“No!  I’m only doing sixteen portraits, and each subject is appearing only once.”

He frowned, feeling disappointed at that.  “Does that mean you’ll only actually finish one of them?”

“No, I um…I plan to finish them both.”  She tilted her head, her eyes darting back and forth between him and her paper as she considered what she’d done.  “I need to see them both, finished, to know which one belongs in the series.”

 “What will you do with the other?”

 “I uh, haven’t thought about it,” she replied, blushing.  “What banquet were you supposed to go to?”

Nathanaël noted that she was changing the subject, but let it go.  “Some political fund raiser.  Mother is already gearing up for next year’s campaign.”

She winced.  “I’m sorry you’re missing it.”

“I’m not.  If I weren’t here, I’d have likely found another excuse not to attend.  Trust me, there will be plenty more for Mother to drag me to.”

“My dad told me recently that he once had political aspirations.  He couldn’t stomach all of the ‘nonsense hobnobbing’, so he didn’t last long.”  She giggled.  “Can you imagine **my father** , the mayor?”

He smiled, thinking back to their _lycée_ days. “No, I don’t think I can.  He’s far better suited to being a teacher.”

It got quiet again.  Nathanaël shifted his feet, which were starting to feel sore.  How far had she gotten? Would she maybe go for coffee with him after this? Coffee was casual.  Coffee was safe.  If she said no to coffee, he’d know not to ask her for an actual date.  He shifted again, drew a breath to speak, and blew it out silently.

Fuck.  Caring sucked.

He almost missed the days when he could just walk up to a girl and demand her attention, as he’d done with Adrienne for so long.  But no, that was a dick move and he didn’t want to be a dick.  It was a miracle that Adrienne was still willing to be friends with him.

Ok.  He could do this.  He could—

“Hey, um, Nathanaël?”

 “Yeah?”

“I’m just about done with my initial sketch.  Would you maybe want to go for coffee?  With me?  Or—or lunch.  Because it’s noon, and people eat lunch at noon.  Or maybe not today, because you have things to do.  But maybe—”

“Hey, Goldie!”  He turned to face her fully, and [leaned toward her with his signature smirk in place, the staff still slung across his shoulders](http://68.media.tumblr.com/ab6f069034eb46a5cc06ff3494cf7c96/tumblr_inline_nzfdovUkmh1tcr32z_400.gif).  “I’d love to get coffee with you.”

“Eeeep!”  She said, her wide eyes once again locked on his goods.

“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered, dropping the staff to cover himself with his hands, and wondering how many times he could humiliate himself in one day.

She blinked.  “M-maybe we should get that coffee first, hmm?”


End file.
